Last Stand
by Jinne F'kel
Summary: Second Battle of Bothawui, blablabla, enjoy.


A dozen dropships hovered over the jungles of Bothawui, watching the countless explosions of green and red which illuminated the brutal battle of a thousand clashing soldiers in the forest below. The _Bespin_-class ships carried 50 troopers each, all ready to descend into the shadowy realm beneath them and join the fight; they believed it vengeance for their fellows, those who had fallen in the First Battle of Bothawui only a week before. From what they'd been told, only a few thousand Republic soldiers guarded the global shield generator which had so far protected the planet. They could see the tower-sized generation dish in the distance, a dark gray giant with blue energy pulses coursing over its metallic skin every second.

And then they dropped.

In the space of a few seconds, over half a thousand Imperial troops plummeted 20 feet into a clearing of the Bothan rainforest and hit the ground hard. As they brushed themselves off, they looked up and watched as the gray-and-red dropships soared over the forest and left the battle. Just ahead, they could see and hear weapon discharges flashing like an Alderaanian lightshow: the main difference, of course, was that these fireworks would kill.

The soldiers looked at each other for a tense moment and then, activating their rifles, charged into the treeline, thick vines sticking to their helmets as they ran. The second they entered the undergrowth, the firing was turned on them. Green shots flew toward the troopers, taking a dozen down in the first few seconds of gunfire. A thermal grenade flew overhead - "Take cover!," one trooper shouted - and landed only an inch away from a larger group of soldiers. The incendiary detonated with a blinding flash, and fire immediately engulfed an area of 20 feet. No one in range was spared; the flames burned through the troopers' armor in an instant, and the agonizing screams of Imperial soldiers filled the forest.

It gave no pleasure to the soldiers of the Republic 210th, killing enemies in such a tortuous manner, and as Corporal Grev Belkin ran through the bushes and ferns toward the golden glow of a lightsaber, he could only think of where else he'd like to be. His family on Coruscant was probably visiting the Galactic Market for something fancy; Belkin had, after all, left behind an entire cabinet filled to the brim with credit chips before he left. _Jina could be buying dresses for the girls_, he thought, _Or maybe some toys_ -

The Corporal was torn from his thoughts with the sound of a blaster, and a red beam shot through his kneecaps like a Sith warblade. He couldn't find the power to cry out as he hit the ground, and his vision went red as he muttered curses. Breathing heavily and gritting his teeth, Belkin looked up toward the source of the shot.

A small group of Imperial troopers charged toward him, aiming their rifles on their shoulders. As the hail of blaster fire began again, the yellow glow behind the soldiers began to fade. Grimacing, Corporal Belkin shouted, "Master Allusis!," and very painfully rose to one knee, rolling into the bushes and pulling himself up behind a tree. He reached for his rifle, which had nearly broken beneath his weight, and felt the heat of a dozen blaster shots around his arm.

Pulling the rifle behind the tree, Belkin lay down on his stomach and aimed the rifle on a loose tree root; with a sickening shudder and click as he pulled the trigger, the weapon burst into flames. He swore loudly and dropped it instantly. The fire had melted through his glove, and the rifle itself was beginning to disintegrate. With another look at the enemy soldiers, Belkin hastily grasped the rifle in his exposed hand and threw it at his foes. Upon making contact with the first trooper's head, the weapon exploded. The soldier stumbled backward, knocking over two others while frantically attempting to pull his helmet off.

Belkin looked around for something else to throw; desperate to keep their attention long enough for Master Allusis to arrive, he grabbed a rock and threw it at the only standing trooper left. The fist-sized stone narrowly missed the soldier's head, and before the Corporal could pull his hand back, a fiery pain enveloped his entire arm.

Closing his eyes tightly, Belkin crouched back behind the tree and, afraid of what he might see, ran his good hand down his arm. Upon reaching the palm of his hand, the Corporal felt nothing. He reluctantly opened his eyelids and held back a scream: there was an eye-sized hole in the center of his right hand, showing the charred flesh inside his glove.

He looked back up at the vibrant green forest, watching the battle fade into the distance… The explosions of blasters and grenades were farther away than ever now… Even the sounds of the fight were growing quiet…

For a moment, there was complete and utter silence.

And then the hum of a lightsaber shattered the relative calm of the forest.

A yellow glow caught Belkin's eye, and he quickly grabbed another rock off the ground. Forced to use his left hand, which was not exactly his best, he threw it at the still-firing trooper, who was getting closer and closer.

As the Imperial soldier grunted in surprise, nearly dropping his rifle, the Corporal's training kicked in. He jumped up from behind the tree and immediately charged at the enemy trooper, knocking him to the ground and wrestling the rifle away from him. A sharp pain shot through his chest, but Belkin pulled the trigger and then threw the carbine behind him, noting the abrupt end of any struggle.

Gritting his teeth, the Corporal tried standing up straight, but to no avail; the adrenaline which had so greatly energized him before was now gone. His knees buckled beneath his weight, and he fell to the ground right beside the dead Imperial.

Belkin closed his eyes, breathing heavily, and clutched his chest. His hand ran over not smooth armor, but horribly cut terenthium plating that had gashes deeper than three inches all across the front. _What the…?_ Then he heard it - very quiet, but still existent, was the quiet electrical hiss of an Imperial vibroknife.

Growling beneath his helmet, the Corporal once more listened for the comforting sound of a lightsaber. Nearby, he could hear thick footsteps and the familiar purr of a Jedi blade.

But it was not to be: twenty meters away, Master Belth Allusis watched the glow of a red lightsaber tear through the undergrowth. He'd not expected there to be a Sith amongst the ranks of the invaders. Narrowing his eyebrows, he crouched behind a boulder in the clearing and glanced up at the shield generator towering above him. It was his duty to defend it, for it powered a shield which encased the entirety of Bothawui, protecting it from orbital bombardment. If it was deactivated, countless lives would be lost.

That's why Master Allusis needed everyone he could get.

Letting out a shout - "Soldiers of the Republic! Jedi! Rally to me!" - he left the safety of the boulder and charged into the forest, deflecting a few stray blaster shots as he ran.

Back in the undergrowth, the Corporal yelled, "Master Allusis? Is that you? I'm wounded… Please, I need help!"

"Don't worry," replied a voice that was steely and snakelike - not at all the Jedi that Belkin knew. "You haven't yet experienced pain, Corporal. Everything will be alright; at least, for the Empire, and myself."

The instant the footsteps stopped, Corporal Belkin opened his eyes and tackled the cloaked figure, who held in his hand one scarlet lightsaber. Either the Sith too had been shocked that this Republic trooper attacked him (the Corporal indeed felt surprise beyond belief), or else Belkin's senses simply didn't join him for a moment; in a few seconds, however, electricity was coursing through the gaps in his armor and dancing frantically across his skin. The Sith's lightning covered his entire body, filling his eyes with a deep purple haze.

After what seemed to be an eternity of pain for the Corporal, the Sith seemed to become bored of his game; with a simple push forward, Belkin was blasted a dozen feet backwards into the trunk of a particularly large tree. Coughing upon impact, Belkin could feel warm blood spurt from his mouth and stick to the inside of his helmet. He tried standing and facing the approaching Sith, but he couldn't find any more strength in his already-weakened legs. The Corporal simply lay against the tree in agony.

As he approached, the Sith pulled his hood down, revealing a near-white face and startling yellow eyes. A cruel sneer covered his face, which just barely reflected the red glow of his lightsaber. He raised his hand slowly, and Belkin could feel his helmet pull itself away from his armor. For the first time, the Corporal felt the humid air of the Bothan rainforest against his skin, and it reminded him of his home near the hydrosupply on Coruscant.

_At least they're safe_, he thought, thinking of his family.

Belkin stared up at the Sith, who calmly held his lightsaber a mere two inches from the trooper's neck. The heat canceled out the dampness of the jungle and scorched his skin, but the Corporal ignored this.

"Well," he said impatiently, "Aren't you going to kill me?"

The ugly grin on the Sith's face only intensified, and he raised his lightsaber.

As the blade fell closer and closer to Belkin's neck, time seemed to slow down. A thin layer of rain began to fall over the forest, and the Corporal's eyes met the white-hot glow of the saber.

_So this is how it ends._

But, as he very quickly realized, this was not so.

The golden tip of a lightsaber sprouted from the chest of the Sith, and the red blade abruptly vanished as the hilt fell to the ground beside its dead master.

Kicking the corpse aside was none other than Master Belth Allusis, who now knelt beside Belkin and closed his eyes. A feeling of warmth and peace flowed over the Corporal, clouding out any feelings of pain he had felt before. "Everything's going to be alright," the calm voice of the Jedi Master said quietly, waving his faintly glowing hand over Belkin's legs. Immediately, he could feel the muscles and bones in his shins repairing themselves, but not in the painful way one would expect; rather, the movement beneath his skin was not uncomfortable in the slightest.

But the feeling of peace didn't last very long, for a jarring explosion above tore Belkin away from his momentary bliss. He looked up through the thick canopy and had no trouble rejoining the battle, picking up the Imperial carbine he had used earlier and following Master Allusis through the treeline back into the heat of the battle.

The remaining Republic troops, only about a dozen by now, had rallied alongside three Jedi in front of the shield generator. Amidst the blaster fire, Belkin watched in horror as a smoking Imperial dropship hurtled toward the shield generator. An impact of that magnitude would surely cripple the generator, and then the planet's surface would be vulnerable to bombardment.

The Corporal turned to warn Master Allusis, but he and two other Jedi were already closing their eyes and holding their hands out toward the dropship. With a creak, the ship slowed to a halt a mere meter from the generator. A second later, Allusis and the others tore the ship into pieces in midair and began throwing the rancor-sized chunks of metal at the enemy. It was a marvel to behold, and Belkin watched in awe as the remaining Imperial soldiers either ran or were crushed beneath the pieces of their own ship.

In any other circumstances, the soldiers of the Republic would've cheered gladly at the prospect that they had defeated their enemy, but they knew better by now. Dropships dotted the horizon above the rainforest, and all of them were Imperial. They weren't getting any backup, and the Empire didn't seem to be running out of troopers any time soon.

Belkin looked at the others grimly, nodded, and reached down to reattach his helmet; with a quiet curse, he remembered that it was laying beside a dead Sith in the forest. But the Master Jedi seemed to have read his mind, for the Corporal found himself catching his own bloodstained helmet in his hands.

"We only have a few moments of rest," Master Allusis informed them, "Possibly less, and I expect we will have no more. Use this time wisely; heal, and remember the cause for which you fight." He then sat down beside the three other Jedi and meditated silently.

Corporal Belkin walked slowly to the base of the generator and sat down roughly on the wet ground, laying the helmet beside him. He looked up and closed his eyes, breathing heavily as the raindrops rolled over his skin and into the cloth beneath his terenthium armor.

"Corporal," one of the other soldiers said, "We need you over here."

Belkin reluctantly opened his eyes and looked around the clearing. The trooper who had spoken, along with all the others, were circled around a body on the ground. The Corporal, who had only as much medical experience as the others, narrowed his eyes and walked over to the group, leaving the helmet behind. He stepped into a gap in the circle and looked around at the other weary soldiers before gazing down at his feet.

The trooper on the ground was obviously near death; blood had trickled down his mouth and dried, leaving a dark red stain that mirrored a fresh line of blood on the other side. His skin was pale and sweaty, and the Corporal held back the urge to vomit when he saw a hole in the trooper's stomach: a neat coin-sized hole that Belkin could see straight through. He could tell that at least one of the Jedi had taken their turn at healing the man, and their efforts had been in vain.

The wounded soldier muttered something that the Corporal couldn't hear, and he knelt beside him. "What's that?"

"P-Private Kirell H-Hevbit," a weak voice muttered in his ear.

Immediately, Belkin recognized the name: a kindly old couple next door to his apartment on Coruscant, the Hevbits. This man, whose face would've been young if not for the signs of death, couldn't have been more than 20 years old.

"Your grandfather's Hykrel Hevbit, isn't he?"

The Private nodded shakily, glancing down at Belkin's right hand, through which he could see the wet grass and dirt.

Belkin smiled a bit and flipped his hand over, examining it closer. "We all have our wounds, Private, including your grandfather. Remember a scar right across his face… Yours seems to be a bit graver, if you don't…" The Corporal coughed and looked the Private in the eyes, a bit shaken to watch the eyes of a dying man. "Why did you want to talk to me, Kirell?"

"I-It's me first assignment, Corp'ral, a-and when I heard we'd b-be serving with you, gave me a f-fair bit of… Hope." A gleam of light seemed to shine in the Private's eyes, and he cleared his throat. "You're a bit of a legend 'mongst us new bloods…"

The Corporal felt his face go red. "Am I really? Just another soldier, y'know…"

Hevbit chuckled a bit, wiping the trickle of blood from his lip. "Not exactly, Corporal. Us new recruits, we've heard you've fought all across the galaxy, and you've always been where the action was… That true, sir?"

Belkin looked around at the others, who had also dropped to their knees. "Well… Y-Yeah, I s'pose it is."

Private Hevbit smiled and closed his eyes, shuddering. "Y'know, they called the best of us the 'next Grev Belkin' 'n' stuff like that… After what I've seen, Corporal…" He opened his blue eyes weakly, staring at Belkin. "I couldn't think of a better soldier to be compared to."

The Corporal held back tears and tried smiling, but he couldn't. This was a dying man staring him in the face. After a moment of silence, Belkin grabbed Hevbit's hand and said the only words he knew to say. "Private… You've fought well today. You will forever be remembered."

Hevbit maintained his weak smile and lay back in the grass, letting his head rest on the wet ground. "…I see Coruscant…," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the treeline.

Then there was nothing.

For a moment, none of the troopers said a word. The Jedi, who had by then ceased their meditation, watched them with curiosity and perhaps a bit of sorrow in their eyes. Belkin glanced over at them with tears dripping down his face and felt a brief surge of rage: _They should be crying over him_, he thought. _He was a good man._

_Ah, _replied a voice in his head, _But you didn't know him very well, you only became acquainted with him today._

The Corporal shook his head and sighed, looking away from the Jedi. It wasn't their cold-heartedness that kept them from crying, it was their beliefs. They knew the dangers of attachments and emotion. If they lost someone they were close to, the sorrow would overwhelm them, and lead them down a path of destruction - at least, that's how they saw it.

Belkin understood what they were getting at, but he still felt as though life was more than that. _That's what the Jedi sacrifice_, he thought. _Their lives._

He turned toward the Jedi again, and Master Allusis was standing up once more, his lightsaber drawn.

The Jedi Master pointed toward the treeline, where Belkin could see the silhouettes of a thousand Imperial soldiers marching forward. At the forefront, he recognized the shape of an Imperial walker droid. Standing on top of the contraption, holding his hat over his chest, was Grand Moff Zellos, leader of the invading Imperial forces.

Belkin looked at his fellow soldiers and muttered, "Showtime, boys," walking over and picking up his helmet. The Corporal closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool rain wash over the cuts and bruises on his skin. Then, he put his helmet over his head and twisted it into place.

As he and the other Republic survivors stepped forward and drew their rifles, Grand Moff Zellos's walker droid folded its legs and let the Moff step onto the loamy soil. He nodded to Allusis and glanced around at what remained of the mighty 210th. "Well," he said, placing his hat firmly on his head. "You have all fought quite admirably. I'm amazed that you few have survived this long, and I understand perfectly that you have lost many today. So, I've come to an interesting decision. If you surrender yourselves and the shield generator to me _now_, you will all be sent safely to Coruscant. There is no need for further bloodshed."

The Corporal shot a few glances toward the other Republic soldiers, who he could tell were just as confused as him. He stepped closer to Master Allusis, asking, "Is he serious…?"

For a quiet moment, Allusis didn't say a word. "…I believe he is, Corporal." Without looking at the others, he held his lightsaber in an attack stance in front of him. "If you or the others wish to abandon your post and see your families, I will have no quarrel with you. Just know that those who have died and _will_ die here shall _always_ be remembered as heroes of the Republic."

Grand Moff Zellos crossed his arms, apparently waiting for an answer.

Belkin looked at the dozen soldiers and Jedi who remained, glanced grimly toward Private Hevbit's body, and then dropped to one knee, rifle raised. "I'll stay til the very end."

The others muttered their assent, following the Corporal's example. Allusis's fellow Jedi drew their lightsabers and assumed their respective positions.

Zellos sighed, shaking his head. "I tried. But it seems you give me no other choice." He turned toward his own legion and, as he walked between the lines with his walker droid in tow, the Grand Moff shouted, "Kill them all!"

Two soldiers went down in the first flurry of bolts, and one Jedi fell ten seconds later. For Belkin, the battle lasted only a moment. Hundreds upon hundreds of red blaster bolts mixed with a small hail of green, a splitting pain in his chest, leg, neck…

And then nothing.


End file.
